


By Any Other Name

by fourdaysofrain



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 20:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20681138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourdaysofrain/pseuds/fourdaysofrain
Summary: “Hey kid, why do you still call me Mr. Stark?”---(aka 5 times Peter called Mr. Stark Tony, and one time he called him something else entirely)





	By Any Other Name

_i. in the lab_

It started, as most of their personal conversations do, during a late night in the lab. Peter was alternating between working on a history worksheet and his web-shooters, switching between the two projects when he ran out of steam. Tony was idly tinkering with a box of scraps while he waited for FRIDAY to process his newest idea for nanotech, which would take at least another hour. It was a gentle kind of silence that filled the room, only broken by various lab noises that they had both since learned to tune out-- a whir here, the ting of a fallen screw there, the soft scratching of a pencil on paper. 

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said, his voice easily carrying over the room, “What was the main catalyst for World War I?”

There was a short pause while Tony switched his attention from the growing pile of machinery in front of him to the teenager across the room before he answered, “Franz Ferdinand’s death.”

“Thanks,” Peter responded as he quickly wrote something down, “that’s what I thought, but I wasn’t sure about his name.” He laughed to himself softly, but it faded when he looked up to see Tony looking at him intently.

Tony took a breath to center himself before speaking. How could he tell the kid every time he called him Mr. Stark, it just reminded him of shitty fathers and childhoods spent masquerading like adults and drinking to avoid the stares of students and professors alike and-- he cut off his spiral with a short sniff. He decided casual was the best way to approach this. 

“Hey kid, why do you still call me Mr. Stark?”

Peter blanched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

“It’s just that you’re a billionaire and a _ literal _superhero, and May raised me to be respectful, I guess. There’s nothing more to it.” If it weren’t for the slightly more hysterical than normal nervous laugh that followed, Tony might have believed him. 

“You call Rhodey by his first name,” Tony countered, “well, technically by his middle name, but the point stands.”

“That’s different because Rhodey’s not--” _ the man who spends all of his time either protecting me or poking fun at me, my childhood hero, my quasi-dad parental figure type person _“--my mentor.” 

“I can safely say that as your _ mentor _, and given that you are also a ‘literal superhero,’” he rolled his eyes, successfully getting an annoyed smile from Peter, “I hereby grant you the ability to call me Tony.” He punctuated his words with a quick flourish of his hands. 

Peter sighed before making hesitant eye contact, tapping his fingers against the leg of his jeans, “Okay… Tony.”

“That wasn’t too bad, was it? The world is still standing, the clock is still ticking,” now it was Peter’s turn to roll his eyes, “and speaking of the clock still ticking, looks like we let it tick a little too long. Time for bed, Spiderling.”

Peter reacted quickly to the change in conversation, “I can’t go to bed yet! I still have a few questions on this worksheet, and it’s due tomorrow!”

“You should have thought about that sometime before--” his eyes flitted to the clock and back, “--12:30 am. Jesus kid, you really do have to get to bed. Don’t want you taking after me too much.” 

Tony tried to keep his tone light and joking, but it fell flat. Peter and him made eye contact for a second that seemed to stretch towards infinity before Tony looked away, pretending to study something on his desk. 

“I mean, red and gold aren’t my colors, but I could manage,” Peter joked. 

Tony chuckled at that, letting himself live in a world where his biggest regret was Iron Man’s suit design for a few moments. 

“C’mon kid, flattery will get you nowhere. Let’s close up for the night.” He didn’t bother with clearing the scraps off his desk, he would go back down to the lab after making sure Peter went to bed. 

“Please let me finish this, I promise it’ll be less than five minutes. I’ll even use FRIDAY so I can go even faster!”

“Kid, only you could make cheating sound like a good thing,” Tony took a beat to decide, as if Peter didn’t already have him wrapped around his finger, “Alright, just don’t tell your aunt that I let you stay up so late, it makes me look irresponsible. Or Pepper, for that matter. Thank God she’s still on her business trip or we would both be in trouble.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark-- Tony. I’ll be out of here soon.” 

Tony huffed out a laugh at the kid’s antics as he walked across the room to grab some more tools. 

True to his word, Peter finished his homework in record time, thanks to FRIDAY’s seemingly endless database of information. Just as Tony was relaxing into the steady back and forth of their conversation, he heard the harsh _ zip _ of Peter’s backpack.

“Alright, it’s all finished, so I can go to bed now,” Peter said, looking pointedly at Tony. 

“What’s with the look?”

“I think if you’re forcing me to go to bed, you should too.” Peter normally lost his filter when he was tired, so Tony shouldn’t be surprised that he’s getting rightfully called out.

“How about this-- I’ll walk you up, and then you can pretend I went to bed and not listen to my footsteps as I come back down here.” 

Peter rolled his eyes but saved the witty comeback. He instead just walked to the door with his backpack and looked back at Tony like a dog getting ready for a walk. The imagery made Tony laugh to himself. 

“Alright, I’m coming. FRI, put the lights to 50% all the way to Pete’s room.” A quick confirmation from the AI was all he needed to open the door and lead the way to the bedroom wing. He slung an arm around Peter, grasping his shoulder as the kid walked sleepily beside him.

They walked in amicable, or just tired, silence until they got to Peter’s door. May let him spend the night enough times that Peter finally felt comfortable enough to take ownership of the room, instead of having everyone pretend it was the guest room. It had a small whiteboard on the outside, reminding Tony of his days in the dorms at MIT. Tony smirked when he saw that someone, probably one of Peter’s Midtown friends, had drawn a spider building a web in the corner. 

“Last stop, Underoos,” Tony said, softly breaking the silence. Peter mumbled a thanks as he went to open the door. He looked at Tony expectantly for a beat before walking into his bedroom. 

“Goodnight, Tony,” came Peter’s voice from inside as the door closed behind him. Tony frowned. He sounded disappointed. He shrugged it off as lack of sleep.

“Night Pete,” he replied.

He stood still in front of Peter’s door. He wanted to go back to the lab to work on his newest idea for nanotech. He knew FRIDAY would be done with rendering the new models by now. Nonetheless, he signed before continuing down the hall to his own bedroom. That damn kid. 

_ii. in the kitchen_

The kitchen was filled with the aroma of warm spices. Peter followed it like a cartoon character after a pie. He expected to find Pepper, or maybe even Rhodey, baking something to share with everyone. He wasn’t prepared to see Tony Stark wearing an apron with the Mark VII’s arc reactor printed on the chest while singing proudly along to the music playing through FRIDAY’s speakers. Peter could have sworn he saw that apron at a tourist shop somewhere downtown. He walked into Tony’s line of sight, causing him to stop singing and tell FRIDAY to turn the volume down, though he didn’t look at all embarrassed at being caught. 

“Hey kid, have you ever had my famous molasses cookies? They’re an old Stark recipe. My mom taught me, her dad taught her, his dad... et cetera. It’s passed onto the firstborn. Top secret stuff.” He shot a silly wink across the room. 

Peter shook his head, still shell-shocked from seeing Tony acting so… domestic. 

“Well, today’s your lucky day. The first batch just came out.” Tony motioned to where a dozen cookies were sitting on a wire rack, and Peter eyed it hungrily. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!” As Pete moved to the counter to grab one, Tony stepped in to block his way.

“What’s the magic word?” he asked playfully. 

“Please?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ with a smirk, “for me, it’s Tony.”

Peter shook his head as he said, “Sorry. Thanks, Tony.” He was rewarded with a clear path to the cooling cookies. He walked over and grabbed one, nowhere near as excited as he was a few seconds earlier. Tony frowned.

“What’s up, Pete?”

“Nothing,” Tony fixed him with a hard stare, and Peter took a second before continuing, “it’s just that calling you Tony is weird for me.” He grabbed a few cookies and a napkin, and sat at the counter across from Tony, not eating them yet.

“Why would it be weird? It’s my name, right?” Peter nodded, so he continued, “Mr. Stark is what everyone called my dad, or what people trying to brown-nose called me. Neither of those options makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You’re better than them, kid.” A flash of guilt went over Peter’s face, but Tony convinced himself he imagined it. 

“It’s just I already had the habit of calling you Mr. Stark, so it’ll take me a while to get used to it. No biggie,” he ended with taking a bite of a cookie, “Oh my God, these are insane! Why have you never made them before?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but was willing to let it slide for now. 

“Next time, I’ll teach you the recipe so you can make them yourself,” he said casually.

“Um, didn’t you say the recipe was for Starks only?” Peter looked up from his cookies to Tony, his eyes wide and innocent. 

“Yeah well,” Tony scratched his eyebrow, searching for what to say, “just don’t tell TMZ and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Peter smiled softly to himself as he continued to eat. Tony failed to suppress his own warm smile as he started to scoop out the next batch. The unsaid message was heard loud and clear.

_ You’re family _. 

_iii. at home_

May and Peter were eating take-out at the table, May’s failed dinner residing somewhere in the dumpster outside. The clinks of their silverware and their warm conversation filled the apartment. 

“So what are your plans for this weekend? Ned seemed excited about something last time I saw him,” May asked as she took another bite. Peter made sure to swallow his own mouthful of food before responding.

“He got a new Lego set, and I’m going to help him build it on Sunday. But Friday night I’m going to spend the night at Tony’s, he said he already cleared it with you, and then Saturday I’ll probably be patrolling and doing homework all day.” Peter looked at May to find her smiling at him. He gave her a confused look.

“It’s so funny to hear you call him Tony. Like he’s a high school friend or something.” Peter laughed along with her goodnaturedly. 

“He said Mr. Stark makes him feel like his dad, so I’m getting used to saying Tony.”

“I can imagine. If you called me Mrs. Parker I think I’d have to kick you out.” May and Peter shared a playful smirk.

“Yeah well, that’s different. You’re my aunt, he’s Iron Man!” Peter still couldn’t hide his feeling of awe at personally knowing _ the _Iron Man. May just smiled sweetly at him. 

“And being your aunt is the closest to a superhero I ever want to be,” May said as she reached over and rubbed his cheek, “and speaking of _ Tony _, you should invite him over for dinner sometime. I’m willing to let him try to win me over after seeing how much he matters to you.”

Peter blushed but nodded. May hummed in response, and they kept eating dinner. 

_iv. at the front desk_

Peter swore under his breath. He’s supposed to be working on Dum-E and U’s little brother right now, but he has to get to the lab first. He was in the lobby of the tower (Tony decided not to sell it after the whole plane crash incident), and couldn’t think of how to get past the front desk. His suit was still being repaired in the lab, so he couldn’t just crawl up the side of the building. Happy didn’t drop him off today, so he couldn’t use his ID card, and his phone died on the cab ride over, so he couldn’t just text Mr. Stark-- Tony.

He’s gotten better with calling him Tony, but it still feels clunky and strange on his tongue. And now, he had the added guilt of making Tony think of his dad every time he messed up. They didn’t talk about it much, but Peter was good enough at understanding subtext to know he wasn’t a good person to be reminded of. He hated to see the hurt look on his face when he couldn’t say Tony with the same excitement as Mr. Stark. But how do you explain to someone that using their first name makes you think of your dead uncle?

Peter knew he’s had a lot of trauma in his life, especially regarding the death of family members-- specifically, parental figures. 

He called Richard “Dad” because that’s what he was, and that’s all he thought mattered at that age. He taught him to tie his shoes, he was there when he was born, and he heard his first word. But then, he died. And Peter moved in with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. 

He called Ben by his first name because Dad was already taken. It was a simple decision. They had a conversation one night where Peter said he saw Ben as a father in every way except for the title. Ben’s eyes had been misty as he gave him a hug goodnight that evening. Then Ben was also taken from him, and he was left to mourn with Aunt May. 

Enter Tony Stark. Peter has known him since just a few months after he got bit by a spider and fell into the persona of a crime-fighting vigilante. In the short time he’d known him, Tony had already made a big impact on his life. An upgraded suit, access to a high-tech lab with the supplies to make anything he could ever want, and, of course, another_ sort of _father figure. Tony isn’t as confident in his emotions as Ben, or as outwardly paternal as Richard, but their bond is already much stronger than a standard mentor-mentee relationship. 

It’s depressing to even think about, but Peter is running out of ways to address the influential men in his life. Richard got the title, Ben got the first name, which leaves an awkward “Mr. Stark” leftover. It didn’t make sense, Peter knew that, but calling Mr. Stark by his first name just made him think of all the times he called Ben by his. But he’d gone through worse, and he could handle saying Tony, for his sake. 

He shook his head a bit before finally walking up to the front desk. The best way out of the woods is through, after all. He smiled awkwardly at the woman behind the front desk, knowing he must have seemed _ very _out of place. 

“Can I help you?” she said, looking at his nerdy graphic tee and jeans dismissively over her glasses.

“Yes, thank you, I’m just here to see Tony.” Peter tried to give his best _ I’m a sweet kid, please help me _ smile. 

“Tony…?”

“Sorry, Tony Stark. I’m supposed to be in the lab with him right now, but I was running late so I had to take a cab, and my phone died so I can’t text him,” he started to trail off, looking for any reaction in the receptionist. 

“Cute,” she said, her bored expression not changing, “but Mr. Stark is very busy right now. You can check the website for when he does meet and greets. If you have any fan mail, you can leave it with me and I’ll send it to his office.”

“No I’m--” Peter cut himself off by running a hand through his hair, “I’m not a fan, I’m serious, can you just tell him Peter’s in the lobby?”

“Listen kid,” and _ wow _ did it sound much icier than when Tony said it, “you seem really sweet, but do you really expect me to believe that not only does a middle schooler get to spend one-on-one time with the owner of SI in his personal labs, but he’s on a first name basis with him, too?”

“I’m in high school,” Peter said, but his confidence had already wilted. He wished that he and Tony had actually set up his internship documents instead of continuously putting it off, so he could just scan an ID and walk in. 

“Sure. Do you have any other stories, or do I need to call security?”

Peter murmured to himself as he started to turn away, stopping when he saw the receptionist’s face finally change from bored to shocked. Not a second later, he felt a steady hand clap his shoulder. He instinctively looked behind him, only to see Tony, sporting a pair of sunglasses and a suit. 

“That won’t be necessary, Miss…” Tony checked the nametag of the receptionist before continuing to speak, “Debbie. Peter here just got a little lost. He’s a high school intern, who I still need to issue an ID to.” 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark--” Tony cut her off with a raised hand.

“No need to apologize, I’m glad you’re doing your job well. We’ll be going now.”

Tony led Peter to the elevators, leaving the shocked receptionist blinking to herself. Peter waited until the doors slid shut behind them before he spoke.

“Sorry Tony, I left my suit in the lab, and then my phone ran out of battery on the way here--” Tony cut him off by ruffling his hair as he took his sunglasses off.

“What’s with people and apologizing to me today? FRIDAY let me know when you walked in, I just had to finish some boring meeting before coming down.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.” Peter bounced on his heels awkwardly as the elevator slowed to a stop.

“And,” Tony smirked down at Peter and tapped the sunglasses in his hand when he looked up, “I heard and saw everything through FRIDAY. So if you do have any fan mail, _ please _make sure it gets to my office.”

Peter groaned. He would never live that down.

_v. on a rooftop_

Peter swung to the top of a nearby building and sat with his back leaning against the roof entrance, letting out a huge sigh as he finally got to relax. He slid his mask off and closed his eyes to work through the withdrawal of adrenaline as he waited for Tony’s inevitable lecture. Thankfully (or not), he didn’t have to wait too long. It was only a matter of minutes before he heard the Iron Man suit touch down next to him. He heard the faceplate lifting before Tony’s voice cut through the silence. 

“Are you hurt, Pete?” Peter was too tired to try to analyze his mood through his voice. He just shook his head from side to side. 

“FRI, do a scan for me.” He couldn’t hear FRIDAY’s response from where he was sitting, but it must have proved he was okay because Tony just huffed and walked to his side.

“Sorry,” Peter muttered.

“Kid, you can’t just apologize and keep doing the same thing over and over. I told you to not meddle with this… goblin guy. If you’re really sorry you wouldn’t keep going against my direct orders.”

Peter just muttered under his breath as he turned to face away from Tony.

“Hey, we’re having a conversation here, look at me,” he ordered.

“Are we?” Peter swung his head back to face Tony, feeling some of his exhaustion fall away at the prospect of an argument, “because it seems pretty one-sided to me.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” Tony pointed his finger accusingly, “you could have been hurt, you could have died today Peter, are you willing to face that? What would have happened if I hadn’t shown up?”

“I would have been fine,” Peter said, stumbling as he stood up. Despite himself, Tony automatically started to move to help steady him before he was waved off, “I can handle myself.”

“I wish I believed that.”

“I wish you did, too.”

Tony broke eye contact first, stepping back and rubbing his face as he sighed. 

“Kid, you remind me too much of myself, which just makes me end up feeling like my dad. You have to _ listen _to me when I tell you to do something. I do, in fact, have a reason behind what I say to you. If you died out there, I’d--”

“You’d what,” Peter interrupted, his temper rising, “you’d feel sad? You’d be guilty? You know what’d I feel if I died? Nothing. At all. So stop trying to guilt-trip me--”

“_ Guilt-trip _? That’s not what’s happening here. Jesus kid, I’m just trying to say that you have people who care about you, and you need to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah well people caring about me won’t stop me from doing the right thing. He would have killed plenty of innocent civilians who also had people that cared about them if I hadn’t stopped him.”

“Listen, I know you think you know what’s best for you and what’s best for the world, but you’re 16, you have no clue what the world can do to a person.”

“_ I _ have no clue what the world can do to a person?” Peter was definitely angry now. His filter completely gone, he continued, “My parents died when I was six. I was _ there _ to see my uncle die. Aunt May and I were barely living paycheck to paycheck before I met you. My first girlfriend’s dad tried to kill me. Next time try taking the silver spoon out of your mouth before you try to talk to me about knowing what the world can do to a person, _ Tony _.”

The name shot out like a bullet covered in ice. Peter’s shoulders were still shaking with his heavy, angry breaths. He looked up to see Tony’s face passively blank, the same way it looked when Peter asked about his black eye on the way back from Germany. He instantly felt a wave of guilt. 

“Look, I’m sorry--” Tony silently raised a hand, cutting him off. 

“I know you’ve gone through a lot, Peter. I’m willing to ignore that outburst. I also know that you feel like you need to save the whole world, but you can’t. No matter how good of a hero you are, there’s always going to be people you can’t save.”

Peter looked to his feet as Tony let his final statement float in the air for a beat.

“That’s why I put you on the bench sometimes. You have to let the people who have already lost fight the battles where they’re going to lose more. You’re still young, and you have to let us protect you. Me, your aunt, Rhodey, even Happy. We all want the best for you, kid. You’re going to be the best of us. We want to make sure you stay safe for long enough so we have someone to pass the torch to.” A beat passed before Peter nodded and put his mask back on.

“I think I’m just gonna go back home now.”

“I can handle that,” Tony said cooly. Peter walked to the edge of the roof, about to jump off, when he looked back over his shoulder.

“Tony?” he heard the clink of the faceplate moving back into place before he saw Tony turn around. They looked at each other across the roof for a beat, through the safety of their masks, before Peter continued. 

“Thank you.”

_vi. in the lab (again) _

It was just an average weekend. That is to say, an average weekend for someone who was bitten by a radioactive spider and then taken under the wing of the local billionaire/superhero. Peter and Tony were tinkering in the lab together on Peter’s Mark III suit. The sun was just starting to dip under the horizon, momentarily painting the whole room pink. 

“I don’t know if I want the instant-kill mode anymore,” Peter said hesitantly. He looked over to see Tony’s hard stare focused on FRIDAY’s hologram of the suit between them. 

“Non-negotiable. You don’t have to use it, but I’ll sleep better knowing you have it.” Peter looked away, suddenly wanting to change the subject. 

“What about the web-shooters? Do you still think I need all 576 combinations?” His attempt to lighten the mood worked and Tony looked over at him with a smirk.

“Have you tried all of them yet?”

“Well,” Peter looked to the side as he tried to remember, “I think I’ve used at least 6 different ones.”

“We can keep them until you’ve tried them all, then.” Peter coughed something that sounds suspiciously like “helicopter mom” and Tony jokingly tapped his fist against his shoulder. 

“You still like the red and blue?” Tony asked, “I tried adding different colors in different marks of the Iron Man suits, it keeps things fresh.” Peter screwed his face up in concentration, or maybe in disgust at remembering the Mark XXVII’s color scheme. 

“I want people to be able to recognize me still. So let’s stick with the same general design.” Tony nodded his head as he typed something into the projected keyboard in front of him and the phrase “similar design” showed up on a growing list of points next to the suit’s hologram. 

“How’s your… stickiness working? Is the suit getting in the way?” Peter sighed in frustration.

“I wish I knew how it worked so we could figure out how to help it, but the suit doesn’t bother it. As long as I don’t think about it too hard I can stick to anything.”

“Next week let’s experiment with the ‘anything’ part,” Tony said as he pushed away from the desk they were sharing. He tapped Peter’s shoulder as he walked behind him, “Be right back, coffee break.” 

Peter nodded, his focus on the suit. His brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what to improve. He remembered that his phone’s touchscreen couldn’t register his fingers in the suit, and they could easily put conductive material in the gloves to solve it. He turned around to get Tony’s attention.

“Hey, Ben--” and he instantly closed his mouth.

Time froze. Tony turned at the noise, and they both stared at each other like two deer in headlights. The amicable silence in the lab turned oppressive. Peter could pinpoint the exact moment when Tony remembered that Ben was the name of his late uncle by how his eyes went from squinting in confusion to wide in shock. They were both somehow blushing and pale as a sheet at the same time, seemingly stuck in that position for hours. Peter tried to think of the best excuse to leave the lab as soon as he could. 

“I forgot something in my bedroom,” Peter said, starting time back up again. He quickly skittered to the lab door.

“Wait,” he felt himself stop at Tony’s words, even though he wanted nothing more than to escape this situation, “as much as we both would much rather ignore what just happened, let’s… talk about this.” At least Peter wasn’t alone in his agony. He slowly turned around to face the awkward conversation head-on. They both stood in silence before Peter finally spoke.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, it’s just--”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Tony said, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, “you don’t need to apologize. I’m telling you right now that I’m not offended or upset with you at all about this. I just think we should talk about why it happened.” Peter sighed and ran a hand nervously through his hair as Tony looked anywhere but his face.

“Well… you know how my parents and uncle are dead?” Peter looked over to see Tony’s eyes snap to his as a mix of confusion, sadness, and sympathy. He chuckled a little at the sight before continuing, “sorry, that was a little harsh. But they are. Dead, that is.”

Tony’s face didn’t improve. Peter had to psych himself up a little bit more and took another breath to compose his thoughts. 

“Wow, I am just saying… words. But, um, yeah. I called my dad ‘Dad’ because he was my dad. Obviously,” _ Jesus Parker, get it together, _“and then Ben was like a dad to me in so many ways, but I called him by his first name because ‘Dad’ was already taken, you know?” Realization was starting to dawn on Tony’s face.

“Kid…” Peter waved him off and continued, looking pointedly at the ground, trying to ignore the shameful pricks in the corners of his eyes.

“And then you came in, and you do so many things that remind me of them, Mr. Stark,” Peter paused, tears starting to pool up in his eyelids. He forced himself to look at Tony, “so many things. And I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I just latch onto people in my life, and I don’t let them go. Even for a moment. And I’m projecting this idea of all the expectations of people I’ve lost in my past onto you, and that’s not healthy for me because I’ll just be disappointed when it turns out you--” 

Peter’s emotions were coming out of him like air rushing out of a balloon. It’s like calling Tony by his uncle’s name took the cork off a bottle that was now pouring all of its contents down the sink. He couldn’t stop talking now, even if he wanted to. He tried to hide his shaky breaths with a sigh, and Tony looked at him sadly, knowing to let him finish before speaking.

“And I just-- hm. I called Ben by his first name because I couldn’t call him dad. And I called you Ben because I’m just--” he cut himself off as his voice filled with more emotion, and started to pace anxiously around the lab, “--I see you as a father figure, okay? Ben was my father figure for over half my life and calling you by your first name when I already see you in the same light just made my wires get crossed. It’s not the end of the world or anything. It shouldn’t have to be this big secret. I’m an orphan one and a half times over, and you’re-- You’re a superhero, my honest-to-God childhood hero, and you take care of me in so many ways. You make me do my homework, you yell at me when I get myself hurt, we watch movies together, you ruffle my hair and call me kid, am I supposed to just treat you the same as any other adult in my life? 

“I know that’s a lot of pressure for you, and I _ know _that we’re both shitty with talking about our feelings but this has just been festering inside of me, and every time I call you Tony I just think of Ben, and I--” a sob, this time not hidden at all as he sat down on a nearby bench, “--I miss him so much, Mr. Stark. Every day. I’m never going to get over that. And I called him by his first name. So I can’t call you by your first name, and I’m never going to call you Dad, and I’m sorry. I just-- They’re taken. And now calling someone by their last name will just make me think of you and I’m just so screwed up that I can’t--”

Peter sobbed again, dropping his head into his hands. He kept starting meaningless syllables and cutting himself off with heavy, ragged breaths. Tony quickly went over and sat next to him. He cautiously placed a hand on his back, trying to move it in circles like he remembered Rhodey doing to him when he found out his parents passed away. Peter’s breath slowly became more even as he gathered himself. Tony decided this would be a good time to say his piece. 

“Okay, first of all, I want to make sure you are absolutely certain that I am not going anywhere. You’re going to have to put up with me for a very long time.” Peter smiled softly through his tear-stained face at that, which Tony counted as a win as he continued. 

“Kid, I know I don’t say it a lot but I do care about you,” Tony hoped he didn’t notice the waver in his paper-thin voice, “I do love you, Peter. In a very paternal way. Don’t ever be ashamed of seeing me as a father figure, because I suppose I see you as a… son figure.” Tony took a second to rub his eyes and steady his breath. He looked over to see Peter’s face red and puffy, but full of adoration, and warmth, and just pure _ love _. Tony swore he felt ten years get added to his lifespan instantly. He wanted to take a picture and tie it to the end of his suit as he flew above the city, showing off to the whole world what love looks like. 

“But you have to let me know when you’re hurting, Pete,” he continued, making sure Peter was looking at him still, “you have to. Especially if I’m the cause of it. I don’t care if I’m about to accept the Nobel Peace Prize and the last time we talked was an argument where you said you hated me. If you need help, I will be there in the blink of an eye. You just have to tell me. Tell me what is going wrong so I can fix it. It’s what I do. 

“And as for what you call me, Mr. Stark is perfect. I thought I-- well. It used to remind me of my father, but now it’ll just remind me of you.” He finished his small speech with a smile directed at Peter, his eyes wet but sparkling with love as he looked at his kid. 

They sat like that for a few minutes. Just basking in the warmth of their shared love as the pink light of the sunset faded and FRIDAY turned on the overhead lighting. Tony eventually decided to break the silence. 

“All those emotions certainly tired me out,” Tony joked, getting a grin from Peter in return, “You ready for bed, Pete?” 

“I’m ready to lay in my bed on my phone for a few hours before actually falling asleep if that’s what you mean.” Tony rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Okay whippersnapper, I’ll never understand your generation.” 

Tony opened the lab door and led them both out into the hallway. They walked to the bedroom wing without saying anything, the comfortable silence they had in the lab still covering them like a warm blanket. They stopped outside Peter’s bedroom as usual. 

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite, Underoos,” Tony said as he turned to go to his bedroom.

“I love you, Mr. Stark,” Peter blurted out, causing Tony to turn around, “I didn’t say it earlier. But I do.”

Peter was biting his lip nervously as Tony felt his heart beat a little quicker. He smiled warmly at Peter, more genuine than he had smiled in a long time. 

“Oh, come on over here, kid. I think we’re there.” 

Tony opened his arms and Peter practically ran into him. 

“Watch the spider-strength,” He grunted as Peter laughed and tucked his face into Tony’s chest. His nose was just barely brushing against the metal border of his arc reactor. The blue light made Peter’s hair look like a painting. 

Standing there, with Peter’s arms wrapped around him, Tony knew that he would do anything in his power to make sure he stayed safe and happy. He felt a fierce fire deep in his chest that almost dared the world to send something at him, just to let him have something to prove his strength to. He felt like he could take down an entire army. Like he could climb to the top of Mount Everest without even breaking a sweat. 

But instead, he just wrapped his arms around Peter and took a deep breath, committing this feeling to memory. 

“I love you too, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> ok but I stand by it being more likely for Peter to accidentally call Tony Ben instead of Dad, and I love the idea that Mr. Stark is more than just a sign of respect from Peter
> 
> also, every time I read/write Tony comforting Peter by saying he's never going to go anywhere, I lose a little piece of my soul rip
> 
> Yell with me on tumblr: [spider-beep.tumblr.com](spider-beep.tumblr.com)


End file.
